


do not disturb

by rhysgore



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, MGSrarepairweek, Minor Electrocution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 07:29:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10239026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: “Major Ocelot, sir. I have those reports you wanted.”A murmur of something that Ocelot couldn’t quite catch. “Come in.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for mgs rarepair week day 1: uncomfortable situations. boy oh boy.

The dossier clutched tightly in one hand, Ocelot hesitated. His other hand hovered over the door to the Colonel’s room, unsure of whether he should knock or not, a hesitation which was growing larger by the second.

 

On one hand, he had important information that he was supposed to deliver to Volgin as soon as possible, and if he failed in doing so, that would undoubtedly invoke Volgin’s wrath, something which Ocelot was not particularly keen on experiencing. On the other, approaching the door, he could hear sounds of someone in pain coming from inside the room, muffled through the thick wood but clear enough. Volgin tended to get…  _ intense _ while torturing people, and Ocelot didn’t want to interrupt that.

 

Though why he would choose his own personal quarters as a torture chamber was beyond Ocelot’s considerable intuition.

 

“Might as well knock,” he decided after a moment, steeling his face and rapping sharply against the door.

 

The sounds cut out for a second. “Who is it?”

 

“Major Ocelot, sir. I have those reports you wanted.”

 

A murmur of something that Ocelot couldn’t quite catch. “Come in.”

 

Ocelot entered, shutting the door softly behind him, and turned around to find that his assumption as to what had been going had been very, very wrong. Volgin was kneeling on his bed, shirtless, broad chest gleaming with sweat. He was breathing heavily, grinning, and holding someone down on the bed underneath him, huge hands on their hip and wound in their hair as he pounded into them forcefully. 

 

“Ivan, look who came to visit,” he said, tugging the blonde mop up, not stopping his movement as Raikov lifted his head, looking smug as he stared lazily at Ocelot.

 

“Like something you see, Major?” He arched his back like an incredibly satisfied cat, letting out a loud moan. 

 

The sound was almost certainly played up, but it didn’t help Ocelot feel any less embarrassed. His face flushed bright red and he gulped, trying to look away, but unable to fully take his eyes off of the lewd display before him. Even if he had, he couldn’t have avoided the noises, the creaking of the bed or the wet slap and slide of skin.

 

Of course he’d known the two were sleeping together. He would have had to be half blind and possibly deaf as well to  _ not _ know, but there was a difference between knowing and actively walking in on it.

 

“I- I’m sorry for interrupting, Colonel, I can come back-”

 

“Hold on, Ocelot. I told you I wanted those reports as soon as possible, didn’t I?” Far, far too composed for someone who seemed intent on fucking his boyfriend into the mattress, Volgin stared him right in the eyes, smirking.

 

“But sir…”

 

“No ‘buts’, Major. Come on, don’t be shy.”

 

Hands shaking, Ocelot opened up the dossier. “S-some of the western outposts are reporting food shortages,” he stammered out. God, this was so  _ stupid.  _ He was a soldier, damn it. He’d handled near-death experiences before- why was dealing with something as simple as sex this difficult? “Specifically at- at-”

 

Volgin rolled his hips, and Raikov moaned in response, loud and unashamed. “Oh fuck- ah- just like that,” he gasped, scattering Ocelot’s concentration. His grip on the paper in his hand was white-knuckled, shaking slightly as he read over the same few words over and over, trying as hard as he could to focus on something else, anything else.

 

“To the south they’re… um… requesting an increase in ammo supplies.”

 

“How does my cock feel, Ivan?”

 

“Mmm… so good… you don’t need to hold back, you know.”

 

If it had been possible, Ocelot would have wished the ground beneath his feet to open up and swallow him. “You have a m-message from… Lieutenant Smirnov. He’s concerned about, uh…”

 

_ “Oh-” _ There was a pop, and the scent of ozone, and Raikov stretched out, smiling dreamily. “That feels amazing.” Volgin’s hands, on his hip and shoulder now, crackled again, sending sparks into his prone body, and he thrashed in a way that Ocelot would have thought indicated pain if he couldn’t hear the lewd noises Raikov was making. “Wait, I’m going to-”

 

A cracking sound, and Raikov’s body convulsed, shuddering violently before going still, save for his back rising and falling, indicating his breath. Ocelot stood there in stunned silence as Volgin continued to drive into his limp form, breath coming harsher and more strained in the seconds before he pulled out, tugging on his cock a few times before he came on the swell of Raikov’s ass, a spattering of pearlescent white.

 

Ocelot swallowed again. He was sweating, lightly, the combination of embarrassment and the heat of the room getting to him. Volgin let his grip slacken, and Raikov crumpled forwards, collapsing with nothing holding him up.

 

“You can leave the file on the table next to you, Major,” he said, voice rough from his orgasm.

 

“Thank you, sir.” Ocelot tried not to make his hurry seem too obvious as he placed the dossier on the indicated table and headed towards the door, wanting to put as much space as possible between himself and what he’d just seen.

 

“Oh, and Major?” Ocelot had one foot out the door, and he turned around with a wince.

 

“Yes, sir?”

  
“Hope you enjoyed the show.”


End file.
